by T. K. Leigh
Alexander hated everything about this. He had seen his wife in many different situations in the past, but never would he have imagined he’d be watching an FBI agent tape a wire onto her body.
“He’ll be at the crane machine.”
“And where exactly is that located in the skating rink?” Agent Moretti asked, everyone’s eyes on Olivia.
“In the snack bar.”
“Is it visible from outside the building?” he pushed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it, but…” She trailed off, looking into the distance. “It could be, at the right angle.” She closed her eyes and raised her hands in front of her, as if imagining she were at the rink, not in her living room swarming with FBI agents. “You walk into the building. To the left is the skate rental booth. Just past that are all the restrooms and locker rooms. To the right is the snack bar. The crane machine is pretty much right at the entrance to the snack bar. Then there’s a bunch of tables in front of the counter.” She opened her eyes. “It’s possible it could be visible from outside.”
“That’s not good enough for me, not when there are civilian lives on the line,” Moretti stated. “I’m going to send some undercover agents inside.”
“But he said—” Olivia began.
“We’ll make it look like they’re on a date or something,” he assured her. “They’ll be roaming the area, looking for anything suspicious. Under no circumstances are you to look to either of them for guidance. Don’t even make eye contact with them. The second you pull into that parking lot, he’ll most likely be watching you to make sure you’ve followed his instructions. Don’t give him any reason to think you haven’t. He’ll pick up on it. The best thing we can do is give him a false sense that he got away with the cash, then bring him down. And believe me, we will bring this guy down, but we need to do so with your daughter’s safety in mind. Now, unless you have any more questions or concerns, it’s imperative that we all get in position before the drop.” He turned to Alexander. “We’ll give you two a moment alone.”
He removed his holster in an attempt to look less like an FBI agent and more like a regular civilian. Pulling a thick ski jacket over his button-down shirt, he kicked off his loafers, put on a pair of work boots, then walked toward the front door.
“Okay. You’re good to go,” Agent Long said, stepping back from Olivia, allowing her to button her blouse. “Agent Moretti will be able to hear everything that is said, but won’t be able to respond. We find people in your shoes are less likely to act in a way they shouldn’t if they don’t have someone else’s voice in their ear. It’s all right if you look nervous, he’ll expect that, but remember what Agent Moretti said. Under no circumstances should you look around for any of the other agents or your husband. They’ll be there keeping an eye on everything, making sure no civilian is harmed, but you can’t let on they’re there. Okay?”
Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled a long, steadying breath, then nodded. “Got it.”
“Good luck. I’ll see you when you get back.” She smiled, then headed toward the kitchen where Alexander’s mother was still cooking. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to leave that room until Melanie was home. She had already sent Martin out at least once to get her more supplies.
Once the FBI had cleared the room, Alexander turned to Olivia, a jittery feeling in his limbs. “Ready?”
“Would you think less of me if I said no?” She tilted her head back and met his eyes.
Exhaling, he pulled her against his body and wrapped her in a strong embrace. He breathed her in. Her eyes. Her smile. Her trust. Her loyalty. Her stubbornness. Her love. She rested her head on his chest, placing her hand right beside his heart.
“Thump-thump.” She tapped out the rhythm with the words. “Thump-thump.”
“What are you doing?” Alexander asked. He was more than aware Agent Moretti could hear everything they said through Olivia’s wire, but he didn’t care. He needed this time with her. He would regret it if he treated this as just another op.
“Memorizing your heartbeat,” she murmured. “That way, I can take a piece of your heart with me in case…”
“Hey.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Olivia. We’ve been through a lot together.”
Biting her lower lip, she nodded, her eyes remaining locked with his.
“And we made it through it all. You and me…” He clutched her cheeks and drank her in, imprinting every dip and curve to memory. The feel of her smooth skin. The heat of her body. The fire in her eyes. “We’re survivors, Olivia. Even when the odds were stacked against us, even through all the bumps and hiccups along the way… And that’s all this is. Just another bump in the road. We’ll get through this one, just like we’ve gotten through everything else. Together.”
Leaning down, he lowered his lips to hers and left her with an unhurried kiss. It was soft, simple, delicate. There was no moaning, tugging, or groping. There didn’t need to be. There were “I want you” kisses and “I love you” kisses. Then there were kisses they’d always remember. This was one of those. A kiss that said everything they may never again have the chance to say to each other.
“You need to get going,” he said with a quiver, pulling away from her.
Closing her eyes, she nodded, taking a moment for herself. Reluctantly, she grabbed the keys to the armored SUV and started to walk away.
“I’ll see you later,” she murmured over her shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-Two
December 19
6:15 PM
AS ALEXANDER SAT IN the rundown old station wagon he was pretty sure was around when Gordie Howe played for the Hartford Whalers, he remembered why he hated surveillance so much. He had to hand it to Moretti, though. No one would suspect the FBI would use this heap of metal to conduct surveillance. Hell, there was no way this car could even muster the horsepower to apprehend a suspect in a high-speed chase.
Moretti cranked up the receiver, the sounds of the ice rink filling the car. Four footsteps, a drag, then four more footsteps.
“She’s pacing,” Moretti observed.
“Wouldn’t you if you were in her shoes?” Alexander pulled his jacket closer, able to see his breath as they sat in the cold, dark car. The night was still, a starless sky over them…the calm before the storm that was expected to drop several feet of snow on the state, which would start in just a little over twenty-four hours. Alexander prayed Melanie would be home by then.
“I suppose.”
Alexander kept his eyes trained forward, looking for anything that appeared suspicious. It had been over twenty minutes, but no one matching Maleek’s description had entered the rink or approached the dark SUV containing the cash. They were taking a risk even being here, but letting Olivia do this alone was not an option. The parking lot was relatively full of cars of all different types, from the typical Mercedes and BMWs to the more economical Fords and Hondas. It was a Saturday night a week before Christmas and the ice rink was filled with kids of all ages enjoying time with their friends…just like Melanie should have been doing.
The sound of Olivia’s shoes were like the ticking of the clock, bringing them closer and closer to zero hour. Every second that passed, Alexander’s heart rate increased, his muscles growing more and more taut. He hated all this waiting, not knowing what to expect. He recalled what one of his BUD/S instructors had said. “There are no unpredictable situations. Read the clues and you’ll know what to expect.” But he was out of his comfort zone this time. There was something about this ransom demand that hadn’t sat well with him from the start, and it had nothing to do with sending Olivia to do the drop.
Read the clues, Alexander thought, replaying the past few days’ events in his mind.
Mischa’s murder. Rayne’s reappearance. Melanie’s empty room.
They had to be connected, but how?
The explosion. The message left on the tip line. Ten m
illion dollars.
For someone who appeared to have done his research on Alexander and his family, this guy should have known that ten million dollars was just a drop in the bucket for him. Hell, he had that amount of cash available through his security company. He called it their “rainy day fund”. He didn’t like to call it what it really was — a stash of unmarked, non-consecutive numbered bills to be used in case any of his operatives were abducted while on assignment. He never had to use it…until today.
Alexander furrowed his brow and glanced at Moretti, who appeared incredibly relaxed. “Doesn’t something about this seem fishy to you?”
“What do you mean?”
Alexander shook his head. “This guy seems to have had his eye on me for a while now. He knew how to manipulate my home security system, making it look like Martin was responsible for Melanie’s disappearance. He’s done everything to ensure he can’t be found and nothing traces back to him. Sure, he gave Olivia a name, but based on everything else, I can pretty much guess your men haven’t been able to pull anything up on any Maleek. Am I right?”
Keeping his eyes trained forward, Moretti nodded. “Nothing to match the brief description your wife was able to give us. We’ve checked with Homeland Security, but I don’t expect anything to come back. As you probably saw back at the house, we tried tracing his phone, but he bounced the signal off dozens of satellites. It would take our tech team days, if not weeks, to pinpoint the source.”
“Then answer me this. Why would a guy go to such lengths to cover his tracks, but make no mention of unmarked, non-consecutive bills for the ransom? That’s Ransom Demand 101, if you ask me. Your team logged all the bills.”
“And marked a few of them with a GPS tracker,” Moretti added. “He didn’t say we couldn’t.” He shrugged.
“Exactly my point. And why demand Olivia use one of my company’s armored SUVs? He must know we’d be able to track it.”
“Maybe he knows how to disable the GPS.”
When the footsteps keeping time in the car stopped, Moretti and Alexander straightened, their eyes glued to the large glass doors of the skating rink.
“What is it?” Moretti whispered. “Can you see anything?”
Squinting, Alexander tried to make out what was going on. “I think she sees something in the snack bar area,” he answered, observing his wife’s back facing them. She was oddly still.
Agent Moretti got on his communication device. “What’s going on in there?” he asked the agents working surveillance inside.
“A teenager wearing a red polo shirt with the skating rink’s logo is approaching,” an agent Alexander recognized to be Gibson replied in a low voice. “I assume he works here.”
Alexander craned his neck, struggling to see Olivia’s tall body through the fogged-up window. He could faintly make out her red-belted coat and wavy brown hair.
“He’s handing her a piece of paper,” Agent Gibson observed.
Alexander inched toward the edge of the seat, ready to spring into action at any moment.
“It could be nothing,” Moretti murmured.
“Or it could be someone Maleek sent,” Alexander retorted, thinking this teenager had gotten instructions from someone to approach Olivia, then hand her that piece of paper.
“He’s walking away,” Gibson said hurriedly.
Alexander kept his vision trained on the front doors, waiting for Olivia to leave the keys somewhere, then walk out. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder, seemingly directly at the car he sat in, then headed farther into the ice rink.
“What’s going on?” Alexander shouted, his pulse quickening.
“She’s heading around the rink toward the locker rooms,” Gibson’s voice cracked over the receiver.
“Follow her,” Moretti ordered. “Under no circumstances are you to let her out of your sight. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there a back entrance to this place?” Alexander asked Moretti, his mind spinning. Something didn’t add up.
“Yes,” he answered calmly. “The locker rooms each have exterior entrances for use during hockey games. The other team has had eyes on it while we watched the main entrance. Aside from a few random cars driving around the building, looking for parking, they’ve noted nothing suspicious.”
Shaking his head, Alexander threw open the door to the car, cursing under his breath.
“Where are you going?!” Moretti bellowed as Alexander took off sprinting. “You’re going to blow our cover!”
“This isn’t a ransom drop!” Alexander couldn’t believe he didn’t see it all sooner. “This is another abduction!”
The pavement was slick from the rain and ice, but it didn’t slow him down. He bolted across the large parking lot, passing row after row of cars. He gritted his teeth, thinking about all the happy families enjoying time together on a Saturday night while he was trying to bring his family back together. Moretti’s footsteps sounded behind him in the distance, but Alexander was on autopilot.
The lights of the parking lot grew dim as he raced around the right side of the building, running faster than he had in years. Just as he turned the corner to where the locker room entrances were located, a dark compact car drove around the opposite corner and stopped. Alexander hid behind a dumpster, peering past it to keep an eye on the sedan. The driver was shrouded in darkness, his face protected by the night. He looked down, as if checking his watch, then glanced back to the locker room entrance.
Alexander held his breath as Olivia exited into the crisp night air. The front passenger side window of the sedan lowered and Olivia ducked, as if speaking to whomever was behind the wheel. If this were simply a ransom drop, she could just hand the keys through the window and walk away. Instead, she reached for the handle of the back door, about to pull it open.
Only thinking of keeping Olivia safe, Alexander rushed toward her, his weapon drawn. His heart raced, his entire body heating from the adrenaline coursing through him. His legs felt weighted down, the distance between him and the sedan seeming like miles instead of just a few yards.
“No!” he bellowed. Olivia snapped her head in his direction, taking a step back in surprise. He threw himself toward her, pushing her away from the car, as the squeal of tires reverberated through the cold night air. Aiming his weapon at the back of the car, he fired a few shots, staring at the license plate as it disappeared around the corner.
Repeating the combination of six numbers and letters in his head, he holstered his gun, spinning toward Olivia. She stared at him in confusion, disoriented.
“What did you do that for?” she shrieked. He could see her terror and panic as she searched his face for an answer. “He has Melanie. He was going to bring me to her!”
Alexander grabbed her face between his hands and gazed deep into her eyes, resting his forehead on hers. “No, Olivia. He wasn’t. This was all a setup.”
“A setup? He said—”
“I should have seen it before,” he interrupted. “I was so caught up with finally having some answers, I overlooked one rather important detail.”
“What?” she asked in a grim voice.
“His ransom demand. This guy took every precaution imaginable from the beginning, even being so bold as to make it appear Martin had taken Melanie. It makes sense he wouldn’t want us to use the ransom to find him, too, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course, but—”
“The cash,” Alexander said hurriedly as FBI agents began swarming the area, Moretti bellowing orders. “He never asked for non-consecutive, unmarked bills. He didn’t care about the money because he had no intention of taking it or returning Melanie. This was his way of drawing you out alone so he could…” He trailed off, grateful the light had come on before it was too late. If a few more seconds had passed, he shuddered to think what would have happened had Olivia gotten into that car.
“But what could he possibly want with me?” she asked, biting her lip.
&n
bsp; Alexander shook his head, still as dumbfounded as ever about what was going on. It was now past six at night. Melanie had been missing all day, and they were still clueless about why she was taken or where she could be.
“I don’t know, love. It’s probably just another way to try to get to me.”
“Who?” she quivered.
He ran through the list he had made in his head of everyone he had pissed off in his life. It wasn’t short by any stretch of the imagination, but not one person on it stood out. He had thought this was about money. They all did. His firm had worked hundreds of cases for private citizens and very large corporations where they recovered stolen cash and goods. They had been responsible for people losing their jobs, their livelihoods. Some even lost their families as a result of the investigations. But now he knew he had it all wrong. This clearly wasn’t just about money. Maleek was after something else. But what? He absently wondered whether it was connected to Mischa’s death and Landon’s time in Afghanistan, but he couldn’t be sure of anything. Until he knew for certain, everyone was a suspect.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we have a description and a name. You’re going to sit down with a sketch artist so we can blast this guy’s face all over the country. In the meantime, we’ll do our best to track him down with what information we do have.”
“And what’s that? This was our one shot at finding Melanie, but we’re now back to the same place we were before!” she said, fighting back tears.
“No, Olivia. Now we have a plate number. Even if he ditches the plates, he’s got a busted tail light.”
A look of understanding washed over her. “So that’s why you intentionally missed. I thought you were slipping. Even I could have made that shot.” She smirked, lightening the intensity momentarily.
“As much as I would have loved to put two in the bastard, he may be the only one who knows where Melanie is.”
“We’ll find her, right?” Olivia asked, looking up at Alexander through wet eyes.
Wrapping his arms around her and staring at the black sky, his mind went to dark places thinking of Melanie alone and scared. “Of course we will.”